


Winter Aconites

by Kazura



Series: Souls Worth Saving [2]
Category: Disgaea 5: Alliance of Vengeance
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Canon, Self-Hatred, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazura/pseuds/Kazura
Summary: Void seeks the counsel of one whose grasp on logic he can trust. Christo fails him, and Void starts questioning everyone's intentions.





	Winter Aconites

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate summary: [Void voice] Why are you both like this
> 
> Contains: Self-loathing. A lot of it
> 
> Please do read [Midnight Alstroemerias](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11733933) first, as this would only make sense after that.

Seraphina’s out to manipulate him. That’s the only conclusion he can come up with. He almost fell for it, too. But three nights have already passed since then, and he’s seen neither hide nor hair of her. So much for that.

The feeling of someone caring, saying that he deserves things…. It’s all pleasant to have again, in theory, but he knows well enough that he doesn’t deserve anything anymore. The mere fact that he still continues to exist, and that he’s even allowed to live under the same roof of the family he’s done so much to hurt, are already far too much. He’s only managed to convince himself to accept them because it makes his sister happy.

But for someone else, for _Seraphina_ of all demons to say that he deserves to find comfort? He thought about it, almost as soon as he bid her goodnight, after the rush of helping someone and being thanked for it left him. She’s known for being self-centered, among other things. Therefore, she must need something from him. He’s sure of it. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense.

“You think she’s wrong,” Christo says, blinking owlishly at him from behind useless frames, after Void told him about what happened in the kitchen of Seraphina’s Pocket Netherworld. Christo has just gotten back from another trip to his homeworld—it’s hardly a secret where it is to the core members of the restoration committee anymore—and has been busying himself in Fortress de Gaulle with Void ever since.

He’s the only member of the Rebel Army aside from Killia whom Void speaks with outside matters concerning the restoration. Christo was skittish around him at first, and Void couldn’t blame him. But the restoration keep bringing them to the same sites, and Void soon found himself a confidant. After all, Christo is trustworthy, when it comes to all things logical. It’s only logical, in turn, to complain to him about something completely illogical. He’d understand, surely.

“She is wrong,” Void says, poking at the slice of cake that a resident of Fortress de Gaulle offered him after leading him and Christo into their break room. Unlike the first few times he offered his assistance, they actually let him help now, only insisting that he take a break when they’ve noticed that it’s already past lunchtime and he’s still working. He doesn’t understand why they’re so frantic. It’s not as if he felt hungry.

“I wonder about that,” Christo mutters, frowning.

“You agree with her?” Void sputters, staring at him with wide eyes. What happened to cold and logical? Void may have avoided this topic ever since he first discussed it with Christo, but what’s with the change of reaction?

Maybe he’s not really Christo. Maybe he’s an impostor, trying to curry favor with Void.

But he lamented not having jam for his tea earlier, so maybe it really is him. Who does that? Who puts jam in their tea? Definitely not Void.

Christo peers at his checklist, marking the entry that mentions reaching another milestone for the Fortress’ restoration funds. “I don’t see why I should disagree. Based on what I’ve been told, even the prisoners in Hades are allowed some level of comfort. Some rewards for good behavior.” Christo has the gall to smile at him. “Why should you be any different?”

He wants to scream, to take Christo by his shoulders and shake him awake. “Those prisoners likely didn’t destroy countless lives and Netherworlds.”

Christo shrugs, placing his checklist aside and paying more attention to his tea. “I can’t say. I haven’t been, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can go there and talk to some of them in the future. It seems to be quite the interesting place.”

Void doubts he could. Perhaps Christo really does want to go, but Hades is a prison. He can only assume it to be overseen by a hardened warden and filled with vile criminals. Perhaps it’s the place for Void, when the restoration is finally complete, but it’s certainly no place for an angel, even if he were simply visiting.

Christo sighs. “Did you expect me to disagree with her?”

“I expected you to have reason,” Void says, finally giving up on his cake and letting his fork clatter noisily against the plate. He pushes it away. Complete and utter betrayal, that’s what this is.

He probably deserves it then.

Christo tuts and reaches for the plate. “While I confess to being uncertain as to why Seraphina has taken interest in you in particular, concern for that way of thinking is not unfounded. I’m sure Lieze would say the same.”

She would, but that’s because his sister’s kind and compassionate, even towards those who are undeserving. She may frown and scold someone, but she won’t give up on them. Not really. That’s just the way she is. She’s always been, ever since they were children.

Seraphina is different. He shouldn’t trust her. She’s not evil, and Killia has spoken highly of her over the years, but if the people he’s spoken with are to be believed, her most prominent trait remains to be her selfishness.

“You haven’t tried talking with Lieze?” Christo asks, before popping a piece of the cake into his mouth.

Void lazily stirs his tea. “What’s there to talk about?”

Christo frowns at him. “Matters that trouble you. She’s family. That’s what decent families often do.”

“I’m hardly a child anymore.”

“You don’t have to be a child to discuss what you feel with anyone.”

Perhaps if said to someone else, those words would be acceptable. After all, not a lot of demons could’ve terrorized whole Netherworlds to the same extent that Void did. The sheer scale of his actions is the problem. It always will be. He needs millions, perhaps even billions of lifetimes to make up for his crimes. If he could even hope for such a thing.

There’s an insistent voice in his mind, screaming at him. Perhaps Christo’s right. Even adults have the right to have their troubles heard by another. But he’s hardly a normal adult, and there’s only one result to Christo’s suggestion that Void can come up with. He’d end up worrying his sister, and he can’t do that. Someone like him isn’t worth being worried over. The troubles of someone like him aren’t worth being discussed.

Still, he has to pacify Christo somehow. Get him off his back. Void’s the one who brought it up, eager as he was to finally talk to someone about it. He has to end it somehow. He needs to.

Thinking quickly, he finds himself saying, “I’ll consider it.”

It doesn’t seem to do the trick. “You spoke with Seraphina,” Christo says, shaking his head, “yet you refuse to with your sister.”

Void bristles. “I didn’t refuse to.” He just doesn’t have any plans to. “And I do talk with her.” Everyday, whenever he’s able. Does she need some assistance? He can clean the house, buy some groceries, or water the plants. Normal things that speak of normal everyday family life. That’s exactly what she wants.

“Do you?” Christo challenges. “About your opinion that you don’t deserve to be happy?”

“It’s a fact,” he mutters, stirring faster. His spoon repeatedly clinks against the teacup. “She doesn’t need to know that either.”

Christo taps his hand, and Void reluctantly lets go of the spoon. Christo sighs, withdrawing his hand and returning to his cake. “Yet you told Seraphina.”

No. Not exactly. He confirmed it, but he didn’t outright say it before then. There’s a difference. “She came to that conclusion on her own.”

“Based on the conversation that you were having. Why you even spoke with her escapes me. You’ve made it a point to avoid her as much as possible.”

“I was the only one around. I couldn’t let her do whatever she wanted in the kitchen.”

“In her own kitchen.”

Frowning, Void sits up straight. “Was I just supposed to sit there while knowing very well what she was capable of?”

Christo drags out a sigh. “You do have my thanks for that, of course. I can only imagine what could have transpired if she were left alone. However, it’s already done. You’ve kept this to yourself long enough.”

“I didn’t. I told you.” Over tea that Void himself brewed for him on a cold dreary day, a few years back, after Christo had gotten more comfortable around Void, and Void had gotten more comfortable around him. Christo has often been objective, and he did not disappoint then. He took it as cold fact, confessing that it’s reasonable why Void would think that way. But that was it. “I heard none of this back then.”

Christo hums. “Indeed. But I expected you to change your mind over time. Perhaps Seraphina could do a better job that I ever could.”

The face that Void makes probably looks so scandalized that Christo tries to pacify him with a chuckle. “I won’t encourage her, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Do tell me if you’d rather she leave you be. I’ll attempt to convince her to find someone else to turn her attention to.”

“Why is she even doing this?” Insisting that he deserves comfort when he doesn’t. Declaring that she won’t change her mind about it. It doesn’t sound like her. Not from what he’s heard, certainly.

Looking down at his tea, Christo’s gaze softens. There’s something about his smile, as if he’s keeping a secret tucked away behind his lips. “Perhaps she’s making attempts to be more considerate. Same as you.” When he looks up again after taking a sip, there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes. Void could be wrong, of course, but it’s the same look he had on his face when he told Void about the incident with the detergent. “A change of heart sounds plausible even for her, don’t you think?”

Void doesn’t really know. Which, when he thinks about it, is completely unfair. Maybe she can change, same as he does. He’s hated Killia for so long, and while he can’t say how much loathing Seraphina possesses for his sister, Void managed to let go of his hate. It took a while, even if he does still feel inadequate compared to Killia at times, but he managed. Maybe Seraphina can, too.

Sighing, Void gives in. “I guess so,” he mumbles. “But if she gets too annoying, I’ll be counting on you.”

Christo chuckles. “Of course,” he says, smiling, and the final note to his tone paves the way to comfortable silence.

Void doesn’t mind it, when it’s quiet. At least, not when he’s in Christo’s presence. Or his sister’s. Maybe even Killia’s. He can trust them. He can lean back and close his eyes around them yet still be assured of the fact that they won’t take advantage. It’s a luxury that he shouldn’t possess, but it’s one of the very few things that he allows himself, even with the combined guilt and weight of his sins perching on his shoulders.

But all good things must come to an end, of course.

An Overlord’s magic is impossible to ignore. There are ways to suppress it, of course, when stealth is needed, but there’s no need for that here. Seraphina certainly doesn’t seem think so. Amplified by the strong pulse of her magnetic magic, the clacking of her heels can be heard even from inside the break room.

Void opens his eyes. In front of him, Christo sits up straighter, if that were even possible, and raises his eyebrows at Void.

Sighing, Void shakes his head and resigns himself to his fate, just as the door swings open.

“Ah. There you are, Void. I’ve been looking for you,” Seraphina says, beaming. Tucked under her arm is a huge, heavy-looking book. Void can hardly imagine what she intends to use it for. “I’ve been meaning to find you since yesterday, but it appears that you’ve been heavily preoccupied.”

He is. He always tries to be. To spare himself far too many and lengthy periods of rest is an injustice to the people who still need his help.

To Christo, she says, “And you’re here again. Welcome back, I suppose.”

“Of course,” he says, before taking a sip from his tea. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Seraphina.”

“Likewise.” Seraphina smiles, and there’s a gleam in her eyes that Christo should probably be wary of, but it disappears when she turns her attention towards Void instead. “Now then, here you are, Void.” She walks over to his and Christo’s table and slides the book next to his abandoned cup of tea. “You have trouble sleeping, correct? Why not read this on nights when sleep eludes you?”

Christo adjusts his perpetually useless glasses. “’ _The History of the Gorgeous Netherworld_.’ Most interesting. Might I have a look?”

“Of course,” Seraphina says, a hand on her hip as she gestures at the book with the other. “I can’t blame you for being interested. It’s about my Gorgeous after all. However, I do apologize if you were to find it rather boring.”

“Boring?” Christo gasps, as if horribly offended. He probably is, pursuer of knowledge that he is.

Void can’t say he isn’t offended either though. “If it’s so boring, why give it to me?”

Seraphina looks taken aback, as if she hasn’t been expecting such a response. But she soon smiles, maybe a little too giddily, and Void would be lying if he said it didn’t manage to startle him. What does that smile even mean? “It’s for nights when you can’t seem to fall asleep,” she explains. “If it were boring, you might nod off, no?”

If it were boring, he’d toss it aside and find something infinitely better to read. But the history of a Netherworld, especially if it were the history of the richest Netherworld in existence, is far from boring. He tells her as much.

“You have a point, of course. However, this doesn’t have any pictures.”

“And that’s bad, of course,” Void says rather flatly.

Seraphina sniffs. “It would be like an artbook with no pictures! The purpose is moot! It’s an absolute injustice! You can’t simply write a book about Gorgeous and not give the readers a glimpse of how simply marvelous everything is visually! I ought to have sent that book back and demanded its publishers to release a second, much better edition!”

“Why didn’t you?” Christo mumbles, already engrossed in the first paragraphs of the first chapter.

“I simply chose to send a strongly worded letter. They should be honored.”

Christo sighs, but he doesn’t look up, even going as far as turning a page. And another. And another. How he’s able to read that quickly will always boggle Void’s mind. “Surely,” he says, probably after remembering that he still has company, “there are other history books. Why not give Void something you think is more suitable?”

“Because this one is suitable for my intended purpose! If I gave him the best in my library, then he’d be up all night, and that is not the reason why I’m lending him a book.”

For the first time since he started peering at the book, Christo looks up. “What if it doesn’t make him fall asleep? What if he’d only grow curious? I, for one, am, now that I’ve started reading. Are the heirlooms mentioned here still passed down your family to this day?”

Seraphina furrows her brow, and Void exchanges glances with Christo. “The crown jewels are in my possession once more, yes,” she says in a surprising monotone. “And I intend to pass them on to my successor. It’s tradition, after all. It has been for as long as the history of my Netherworld has been recorded.”

Once more, she said. Once more. It left her possession before.

Void’s chest starts aching, and he would’ve clutched at it and curled up into himself if it weren’t for Seraphina’s presence in the room.

He’s heard of what happened to Gorgeous, of course. In his fear of death, Seraphina’s father sold anything that he could spare in order to build his almighty shelter and shield himself from Void Dark’s army. Surprisingly enough, it worked, even against Void Dark’s spear, but such hasty and unplanned spending left the Netherworld with little else.

Their people weren’t immediately left starving. Gorgeous is known to have the best preparations when it comes to providing emergency rations for their people in the event of a calamity, and even Seraphina’s father wasn’t foolish enough to condemn their people. However, they were still on their way of steadily running out of food due to his lack of foresight and then inability to give more support to their people. That is, until Seraphina restored Gorgeous back to its former glory.

He did that to them. He may have not directly commanded or coerced her father to do the things he did, but if it weren’t for the war, there wouldn’t have any need for him to resort to such drastic measures at all.

It’s a little thing, a little small mention of jewels that are probably too bright and gaudy for Void’s tastes, but it sends the room spinning.

And as quickly as it’s started to do so, it stops. There’s a hand hovering over his left—Christo’s—and another over his shoulder—Seraphina’s. He looks up and sees a face brimming with discomfort.

“My, are you all right?” Without waiting for Void’s answer, Seraphina looks at Christo, who stands up and makes his way next to Void.

They’re being dramatic. This is normal. It’s just guilt eating into him again. He’s used to it. Christo knows that.

But Christo still presses the back of his warm hand against Void’s freezing forehead. “You’re cold.”

“I always am,” Void says, but it’s not the complete truth. His sister always beamed at how warm Void was whenever she embraced him back when they were children. Now, his body’s the opposite. But it has always been, ever since he woke up once more and realized that Killia and the rest of the Rebel Army didn’t really manage to kill him. Somehow. He doesn’t know how or why, but he could move once more. He didn’t think too much of it then. He still doesn’t. Perhaps it’s a consequence of some sort. Either way, it doesn’t change anything.

Christo frowns nonetheless. “Would you like some more tea?”

Void glances at his cup. It’s hardly empty, but the tea’s already gone cold. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Perhaps you should rest.” That’s Seraphina again, strangely enough.

“There are still some things I need to do here.” Such as ensuring that the perimeter’s secure, and that everyone can defend themselves for another night, just in case someone sees the Fortress de Gaulle as an easy target. It’s happened before. And they may have made steady progress in restoring it over the years, but there still remains a lot to be done for the economy to be stable again. They’re not Gorgeous, after all.

“That may be so, but Christo can take over for you, no?” Seraphina beams, as if it were perfectly acceptable to just dump all of that responsibility on another person.

Void frowns at Christo, but Christo shakes his head. “I’m afraid I have to agree with Seraphina on this one. I can manage. It would be prudent for you to lie down at least. Shall I escort you back to Flowerful?”

He gets a stare for a reply. Really? Why would he need an escort? He’s fine.

“Very well. If you’d rather I don’t, why not have Seraphina? She’s been meaning to visit Flowerful again for a while now.” There’s a gleam in his eyes, and Void wants to shake him by the shoulders. Maybe if he did hard enough, Christo would start thinking again.

“Me?” Hand over her chest, she raises her eyebrows at Christo. But before Void can even comment, she tilts her head and says, “Well, I suppose that’s fine. I have indeed been meaning to. Unless he’s against it, of course. I’m aware that some men aren’t open to the idea of being escorted by a lady home.”

Without missing a beat, likely fueled by his suspicions, he says, “My sister would be there.”

And there it is. As expected, that gives Seraphina pause. Her smile freezes in place. But it’s gone a moment after. If he hadn’t been expecting it, he would have missed it. “A perfect opportunity to greet her then. It’s been quite a while. How is she?”

A knot twists inside him. That’s not right. That’s not the reply he’s been expecting, and is certainly not what she should be saying. She’s good at this. Rather, she’s become good at this.

But Christo raises his eyebrows at him and tilts his head towards Seraphina.

“She’s…fine,” Void manages to croak out.

“Excellent,” Seraphina says, beaming. “You, however, are not, no?”

Masterfully done. Void grits his teeth in frustration. “I am.”

“Void,” Christo says. There’s no disapproval in his voice, but there’s something else. Concern.

Void doesn’t like it. Rather, he’s not supposed to like it. He’s not supposed to feel good when people are thinking about him and his safety, yet here he is, with warmth blossoming in his chest as a poorly disguised angel and a demon who’s known to despise his own beloved sister hover next to him, pretty words spilling from their lips.

His chest aches again. Rebels against him.

This isn’t allowed. This shouldn’t be allowed. If this would be the reaction he’d get, it would be better off for him to resist showing that he’s in pain. He should work on it. Keep working on it. He has been, but it never seems to be enough. Not with Christo, perceptive as he is. And apparently, now, not with Seraphina. Has she always been observant? Or is it simply because she has an agenda of her own that she acts on her observations about him now? Void doesn’t know.

His thoughts pound against his skull. It would feel so good, so good to lie down and sleep.

“Void,” Christo says again, gripping his shoulder this time. “Think of it this way. If you were to collapse in the middle of your tasks,” not that he would, “what would the people of Fortress de Gaulle assume?”

That he’s gotten what he deserves. Maybe they would cheer for his suffering. That’s infinitely preferable than the passing thought of them worrying over him, thinking that he overworked himself while helping their Netherworld.

In the end, he spits out, “Fine,” because while many of the Netherworld’s residents still despise him, there are those who had forced him to take a break that day. He’d rather not cause further trouble for them in their own home. “I’ll go. But neither of you need to come with me.”

Seraphina raises her eyebrows. “Are you certain? If you’d rather not have me come with you, I’m sure Christo wouldn’t be opposed to.”

“That’s not it,” he murmurs, glaring at the book Christo left open. It’s an acceptable target.

_Why do you care anyway?_

He clamps his mouth shut, biting the insides of his cheeks to keep his accusatory tones to himself. Still, inside him remains a burning curiosity, one that wants to know why she’s willing to talk to him. Christo, he can understand. He’s a curious one—an angel who willingly trots back to the Netherworlds repeatedly and without fear. He probably thinks Void is some kind of interesting specimen to watch or something, and that’s fine, as long as he doesn’t manipulate Void in a way that would hurt his family. He hasn’t so far. And his company’s welcome. Even if Void’s starting to question his cold logic.

But Seraphina’s different. He can’t read her at all, even as she stands before him and peers at him with a furrowed brow. Is this a part of a plot? It must be. But what kind of plot? It would be extremely naive of her to expect him to let his guard down after their disagreement earlier that week. Even if he mellowed down and escorted her back to her room at the end of it, it’s only made him wary of her agenda.

Is there a way to figure out if a person were doing something out of genuine kindness? He wouldn’t know. He’s the last person who would.

Void sighs. “I don’t need an escort. And my sister would probably ask me why I have one when Flowerful’s just a Gate away.” He’s done his best to keep her from worrying as much as he could. It feels nice when she does, but he doesn’t deserve nice things.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t. He _doesn’t_.

He shouldn’t feel as warm as he does.

“Ah. Indeed,” Christo says. If he noticed that Void’s been gritting his teeth, he isn’t showing any indication of it. “I suppose you do have a point. Very well then. You’d phone me when you’ve reached home safely, of course?”

“I guess I can do that,” Void says cautiously. He’s never really needed a phone before, but after his involvement with the restoration became a certainty, it became evident that he needed one if he wanted to be contacted immediately in an emergency. That’s the only use it really has, even if every single one of Killia’s friends have been given his number and have been told that contacting him for whichever reason’s fine, too.

Christo is an exception among exceptions.

“Good. Excellent,” he says, a small smile curving his lips. “Would you rather rest here for a few more minutes first, or—”

“I’m going,” Void says, standing up carefully. The room doesn’t spin again. “Call me if I’m needed.”

Christo doesn’t answer, and Void narrows his eyes at him. Christo holds up his hands.

“That would defeat the purpose of sending you home early, no?” Seraphina pipes in, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

“I suppose I will, if I absolutely must,” Christo says, chuckling, as Void turns his glare towards Seraphina.

“Now, don’t forget my book.” Seraphina reaches for it and dumps it into Void’s arms. “Do tell me if it would be of any help. If it wouldn’t, perhaps a book on philosophy?”

“Your definition of boring worries me, Seraphina,” Christo says, frowning as he adjusts his glasses.

A petty part of Void wants to tell Christo that, yes, philosophy can indeed be very boring, with all those long and convoluted strings of words that one has to read over and over again before they can grasp it. Or maybe that’s just Void. He can’t understand the philosophy of putting jam in his tea, after all, yet Christo apparently does.

Holding her head high, Seraphina sniffs. “I am only here to help. Instead of criticizing my attempts, why don’t you come up with ways to help him get some sleep? I’d be interested in what you’ll be able to come up with.”

“Can’t you simply give him tea?”

Or warm milk. Maybe even something into which detergent has been dumped. If he were lucky, he’d be out like a light.

He coughs to disguise his amusement. He probably shouldn’t have.

“Oh my. You’re coughing, too,” Seraphina says. “Surely, you won’t mind being escorted to the Gate at least. I can call for a Prinny. My maid, Mary, perhaps?”

There it is again. The warmth. But no, he can’t. “It’s fine,” he says, hurrying for the door. The sooner he can escape, the better. “I can manage.”

He knows it would be a mistake, but he looks back anyway, if only for a split second, and sees them waving at him. Christo even has the gall to say, “Look after yourself now. And do call.”

Taking a deep breath, Void moves, shutting the door behind him as quickly as he could.

He’s not sure whether he _should_ be happy about it or not about the fact that the most curious pair in all of the Netherworlds has apparently taken an interest in him. He probably shouldn’t, given who they are.

But as Flowerful welcomes him home with a gentle breeze caressing his cheeks, despite all his reservations and the voice yelling at him about things he doesn’t deserve, he allows the smile tugging on his lips to finally have its way.

**Author's Note:**

> For more ways to find me, [here's my Carrd](https://artwaltzed.carrd.co/).


End file.
